Page 41 of Mating Theory
“Hell, Ashleigh. You’re right about every fucking thing, but I still can’t touch you. I’ve become too much like my father but it stops now. You made me strong enough to stop. If you can live the life you’ve had, if you can survive it, then I can get over the goddamn heartbreak. I’m not going to touch you without understanding the consequences. Not anymore.”
“What consequences?”
“That you care about me,” he says gently.
I look away, but not before he sees the tears in my eyes. “I don’t.”
“And that I care about you. Come here and let me hold you. Let me have that much.”
I want to tell him no out of spite. The irony doesn’t escape me, that weeks ago I wouldn’t have wanted him to touch me, wouldn’t have wanted any man to touch me. And now I’m mad at Sutton that he won’t have sex with me. “Why is caring about me so wrong?”
“It’s not. God, Ashleigh. It’s not wrong to care, but that’s going to make it hurt so much more when we can’t be together. You’re seventeen. You have a whole life ahead of you. I’m thirty-two, and I have no business tying you to me right now, when you’re vulnerable.”
“I’m not vulnerable,” I say, but that’s so clearly a lie that I laugh softly. It’s a watery laugh. I’ve been sobbing and laughing so much that I feel a little unhinged.
He gathers me close to him, his arms tight, his lips on my temple soft. “Do you know how much it hurts not to take you right now? But it’s right. It should hurt. That’s love.”
* * *
Ashleigh
In the morning I wake up in bed alone. Sunlight streams through the window, drawing lines across the rumpled white sheets. Outside Bowie crows that it’s time to wake up. It’s a peaceful place to sleep, a home that isn’t mine. Or is it? Maybe Ky can live with Mr. Monopoly and I can live with Sutton. And maybe fairy tales come true.
I find Sutton at the kitchen table waiting for me. I recognize the check from last night. Dread forms in my stomach. No, I can’t expect anything. There is no happy ending for a prostitute who works on the street. Only tragedies for us.
He hands me a slip of paper. Adeleide Johnson, it says in bold block letters. Along with an address. “My investigator found that this morning.”
My heart clenches.
“Mom,” I whisper.
“It looks like she left him when you ran away.”
She left him? That should make me feel better. I’m not sure if I can forgive her for not being there when I need her. I’m not sure I have a choice. The heart moves without permission. Before I’ve even decided one way or the other, I’ve forgiven her.
I also know things can never go back to the way they were. After living on the streets, I can never go back to being a girl. Something broke when she turned away from me, some thread from mother to daughter. Even if I see her, and I want to, my breath catches with how much I want to, it won’t ever be the same.
Sutton pushes the check forward, and I see that it’s not the same one from last night. It has a much bigger number on it. An additional zero, for one thing. I stare at it, uncomprehending. “What is that?”
He meets my eyes with somber determination. “I can’t be with you. Not like this. Part of me will always wonder if you chose me because there aren’t other choices.”
“Sutton.”
“Maybe it does take away your power. God knows you’ve earned that much. But I love you too much to take the chance. If I took advantage of you now, I couldn’t live with myself.”
The realization makes me ache. “So what are you saying? Goodbye?”
He looks down at his hands, where they’re clasped between his knees. He’s masculine strength and contemplation. “Did you know I thought it was my fault? That Harper chose Christopher? That my love wasn’t as deep as his. That I was shallower, and she could sense that about me. That I was weaker because I loved two people instead of one.”
“Sutton, no.”
“Yes.” His voice turns hoarse. “The thing is, I was right. It was a shallower love than I was capable of, and maybe she did see it. It wasn’t diminished because there were two of them. It was diminished because I was waiting for you.”
I shake my head, unseeing. “Then why are you sending me away?”
“I loved them with a selfish, shallow love. I wanted them for myself. But you… God, Ashleigh. I love you the real way. The deep way. The way where I need you to be safe and secure and strong more than I need to breathe. So yes. Yes. This is goodbye.”
